Road Of Choices
by Myriad-13
Summary: Aiden Burn became a tough, savvy CSI in the series. But what were the events that led her to such a demanding job? How something worthwhile overcame coming from the wrong side of the tracks. Response to the Quotes Challenge in the Fic Challenges forum.


**A/N: Okay guys, this is my entry into my own 'Quotes Challenge' in the Fic Challenges forum. As I mentioned on the forum, the fic doesn't have to explicitly say/state the quote but can convey the definitive vibe of the quote. I think this achieves that well enough to satisfy that criteria. Enjoy!**

**Characters: **Aiden Burn, some OC's.

**Set: **Pre-CSI:NY

**Rating: **T

**Warnings: Minor swearing and mentions of drug use.**

**Quote: "**While we are free to choose our actions, we are not free to choose the consequences of our actions." – Stephen R. Covey

**Disclaimer: **I do not in any way own CSI NY or affiliates. I'm using the characters to no profit.

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**Road of Choices**

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"You'll never amount to anything girl!"

Aiden Burn, 17, fierce eyed and staring her mother down, just pressed her lips together, staying strong under the vitriol thrown at her. She was semi-used to the weekly torrents of verbal abuse thrown at her by her so called mother – mother, ha! This being was merely the person who had given birth to her and raised her. There was nothing motherly about her.

"You think you can leave me, bah! You'll come crawling back. You'll see. You little ungrateful bitch. After all the food I've given you, the shelter, the love…you're throwing it away, you'll see," her mother shouted at her, too lazy to move from the couch where she sprawled, skeleton thin from her methamphetamine addiction. Her words always came out with a slight lisp – a trait she had developed in the last year due to the crystal meth contributing to her poor oral hygiene and losing her two front teeth.

"Crawling back to what? This dump? I'd rather live out on the street," Aiden spat back.

Her mother's black eyes simmered with hate for her child, standing there, a pretty girl, defiant. "That's the thanks I get. For 17 years I've given you everything!"

"Given me a tough skin 's more like it," Aiden muttered darkly. She marched over to the kitchen, grabbing the last thing she had to pack before leaving through the door to a better life. Her grandmother's burgundy beaded rosary chain which hung on a hook in the pantry for safekeeping. Anything with her and her mother had been ripped or broken, left in the closet she called a bedroom. All she had with her was her handbag and her duffel bag filled with her school books, uniform, work uniform from McDonalds, and the bundle of good clothes, shoes, and toiletries she had.

She was divorcing herself from her mother. 'Emancipation' the lady at the family clinic had told her.

Placing the holy necklace around her neck, she kissed the crucifix for luck before hiding it underneath her shirt. She turned, yanking her bags from the floor while her mother watched with bitter, beady eyes.

"How 'm gonna get the cash for rent with you gone, girl? We'll both be homeless," she said.

"Bullcrap! That's not rent money. That's your drug money, and don't you tell me no different. I'm out of here. Don't you ever look me up ever again. I'm not your daughter. Not anymore," Aiden replied coldly, resolve firm.

And without another word, she stormed out, the shrieks of her mother following her to the street where she ran, ran away down an alley until she reached a car park of a nearby school. She lived in a rough part of Brooklyn, and it was good to keep moving around here, or if you weren't moving, staying still where security cameras observed what happened.

Breathing hard, she realised that there was wetness on her cheeks.

This was it. She had finally done it.

Part of the tears had been because it was the closing of a chapter of her life's story. No way, no matter what happened, would she be going back to live with that drug addicted tyrant. No freaking way. She'd rather sell her body than go back. Part of her mourned. Mourned the fact she had never had a real mother since she was about 5. Her mother had gone from a normal woman into a monster with a drop of meth.

Ever since then, Aiden had fended for herself. She pushed herself to be good in school by staying behind at the library to do her work instead of seeing her mother hallucinate while she was on her drugs. She shunned the teenage parties that cropped up every now and then to study for the next day's exam so she could make the best grades possible. She had gone to self-defence lessons so that when her mother's 'boyfriends' tried to make a move on her, she could escape. She had gotten herself a job at 14 doing a shitty McDonalds job – but seeing her first real pay check go into her own account each week made it more than worth it. She had learned to cook and clean, shop thrifty and mend her own clothes.

Aiden Burn had been a full functioning adult before she even turned 18.

She breathed deeply to calm herself, and shed more tears.

She was free!

Free from the darkness, and now into the light.

She had made her choice. She didn't know what the consequences were, but she had taken the bull by the horns and directed it in the path she wanted to follow.

"God, I promise, I'm going to make something of myself. With you as my witness…I'm never going to end up like my mother," she vowed, making a sign of the cross and touching the outline of the cross in her shirt.

* * *

The next year was a rough one. Aiden had to work more, longer shifts at Mickey D's when she wasn't in school, paying rent at one of her friend's houses to appease her friend's parents. She studied even harder to make the right grades. Although it meant she never got more than six hours of sleep, she had a plan. She was going to take out a student loan and go through college. Doing what, she didn't know yet.

It was the week before graduation.

Aiden wandered through the careers fair aimlessly, avoiding the crowded booths that advertised teaching or acting – such a thing was all too common in NYC. She needed something different. Something that stimulated her mind. Her last exams had gone extremely well – in her mind at least. Science had always seemed to be her forte. While she enjoyed it, she didn't want to be chained to some kind of think tank for the rest of her life, researching things that would never come to fruition.

She was about to leave when a dark blue banner, right at the back of the hall, caught her eye.

Aiden couldn't quite make out the wording, but she tossed up whether to make the effort to walk all the way over there and it turning out to be something stupid like modelling. With a sigh, knowing she might as well have a quick look, she walked over there.

Getting closer, she could make out the pale blue lettering.

"_Want to serve justice? Join the NYPD or Crime Lab_. _Many avenues available."_

NYPD. Huh. She was surprised they weren't next to the FDNY tent. Probably why they were so easily missed. Curiously, she craned her head, seeing many brochures scattered all over the table. Two men were sitting behind the desk, looking bored.

"Hey there miss. Interested in the NYPD?" the older looking man asked, getting up.

"Eh…kind of," she shrugged. What would she do as a cop? Chase around drug dealers all day?

"Ah, one of those ones," he muttered knowingly. He held his hand out for her to shake. "Let me introduce myself. Donald Flack Senior. I'm a retired detective. This is Kieran Rowe. He's the head of the Crime Lab here."

As Aiden shook his hand firmly, she asked, "What do you mean, 'one of those ones'?"

Chortling slightly, Donald explained, "You've got the look of a fighter in you. And you're curious. If you weren't, you'd have turned away as soon as you made out the sign. You want to know if this is a career you can sink your teeth into. What can you do, how on earth would you benefit from it, right?"

Nodding, Aiden was impressed. This man hit the nail on the head.

"Well, I was in the PD for over 30 years. Actually got a boy of my own who's just graduated from the police academy. Don Flack junior. And you have the same look he would have when he heard about stories from work as a teen. Thirsty to prove yourself, hungry to make a mark – a good one, not a bad one – of your own," the ex-detective shrewdly said. He tapped a brochure. "This one is about women cadets and the pathway into the academy for women. We at the PD encourage women to join up, ones that have justice on the mind, see?"

"Yeah. Okay. But what makes you think I'd be interested in chasing all over this city after a penny pincher?" Aiden challenged.

"As I said, you want to better yourself. You look older than your years, miss…?"

"Aiden. Aiden Burn."

"Aiden. You look like you could take down a 250 pound man with a little training," he appraised with a trained eye. "And being a cop is not all about being a rookie forever. You can move up the food chain from officer to detective to sergeant and so on so forth, and there's different opportunities that arise at each level."

"Which is where I come in." Kieran Rowe stood, brown eyes studious on the young woman. He tilted his head to the side and asked, "Have you done any science at all?"

"All three. Bio, Chem, and Physics," she replied.

Nodding in delight at the new information, he said, "I was a cop once. I moved up into detective but at the same time, I became a Crime Scene Investigator, or CSI for short. I was trained in the science field while I was going through the academy – all detectives must have basic knowledge when it comes to evidence collection at whatever scene to preserve it – and I decided I needed a change. I became a CSI. Not only did I investigate the crime, I helped to piece together the clues using scientific evidence. Of course, you can become a CSI without going through the academy, but this is the path I took."

Curiosity cultured by these two wise men, Aiden asked, "Tell me more about the lab stuff. It's not boring is it?"

"Not at all Miss Burn!" Rowe said enthusiastically. "In fact, I learn something new each day. I didn't know what consequences would follow to me switching my field, but it turned out to feed me information. We use all manner of different techniques and when you help to catch a wanted criminal it is a rewarding feeling."

Aiden had to admit. The words were enticing. Mr. Flack had been right – she wanted something that proved that she wasn't her background. She wanted to be more than the daughter of a drug addict. She wanted to be everything opposite to that. She would be helping people. She would be stamping out the bad things that happened. As she glanced down at the plain, informative pamphlets, she finally felt something she had been looking for all day while visiting other careers booths.

Yearning.

Yearning to be out there, doing _that_. She picked up a brochure for the PD and the Crime Lab, looking up to the men watching for her reaction.

She made another life changing decision.

"Okay guys. I want to know more. Tell me how to get in."

When they smiled at her, Aiden knew in her heart, this was what she wanted to do.

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**A/N: How did you guys find that? Reviews are always wonderful and entirely appreciated. **


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